F Flat
by TaintedHobbits
Summary: Once upon a time. LegatoCentric


**Title:** F Flat  
**Rating:** PG-13ish  
**Characters:** Legato-centric  
**Notes:** I like to think that maybe Legato could have lived a normal life and maybe that he's bitter about where he's come to stand -- Maybe things just didn't go his way a little early on and he was stuck. Besides, Legato would make an _adorable_little boy :3 (Oh, and this took about fifty bajillion years to write, so I'm completely excited that I could finally get it out!)

* * *

**F Flat**

There once was a boy named Legato

He had met a strange man at the age of ten, whose named he did not know, and would not know for many more days. Legato did not feel abandoned, nor frightened or disturbed. At the other end, he neither felt happiness or excitement. To him, it was merely another man, and he was his new father.

---

Legato had found his pace behind the strides of his new companion. They had not even spoken one word to each other until exactly 267,893 seconds since he had followed, or 198,399 steps.

"Tell me, what are your dislikes?" His voice was warmer than people credited him for.

Legato gave a moment's thought, before replying, "Being controlled, sir."

A wry laugh. "What if I told you to follow me? What if I've been telling you to follow me all this time?"

"Well, you couldn't have, sir, because then I wouldn't have followed."

And more laughter, "We'll see.", he said. "We will see."

He did not even notice himself shiver, as the laughter shook him and a voice was placed in his head. Only in the background could Legato hear it.

'_Give it time.'_

---

Legato served under Knives from that point on. Why?

Because what Master wants, Master gets.

And Legato found that he did not dislike that - There were things more important to despise above that.

'_Give it time.'_

_---_

But this boy named Legato was not very strong; His new father liked to capitalize on that.

Late at night, though, when voices were calmed, breathing died down, and the bruises began to welt, this boy would dream of days when he had dreams.

---

"Mother?"

A young woman came striding into a small kitchen, a soft and expectant look directed at a young boy. She gave an understanding smile as she connected the tears streaming down his guilt-ridden face and the glass shattered a few steps away from him.

"Oh, Legato", she lightly chided, "It's alright, just make sure to be more careful? I don't want you hurting yourself on any glass."

"I'm sorry, Mother." The boy's head was still hung, his obedience obviously well in-tune. "I'll clean it up if you could get the dust pan down for me.", he offered, the last part with a sheepish tone.

"Don't worry about it, dear, just ask for help if you need a glass down next time -- we don't need you to cut yourself." The mother gave him a small grin and a hug, noticing his face blanch the slightest at her last comment. "Now, go play! You don't get nearly enough sun, cooping yourself up in the house all day."

Too ashamed to deny his mother as he usually would, the boy named Legato headed to the door with a light, but meaningful thank you . The sun outside managed to take his grip away from the door handle, his eyes used to the dark interior of his home. Just as he completed his unsaid task of shutting the door, he heard his named called behind him.

"Legato?" He turned towards a young girl whom he recognized from the local school he attended.

"Hi, Lily." The green-eyed girl's face brightened at Legato's mention of her name and he gave a warm smile back. He had noticed her since their first day in class together - She had a bright personality that had attracted him, not to mention how pretty she was.

"Hi! Um… you weren't in class today, so Miss Thomas asked me to bring you our class work so you'll be all caught up for tomorrow!"

He took the papers with a small smile and 'thank you'.

There was a pause, as if the cheery girl was contemplating something, until curiosity must have gotten the best of her. "So how come you missed school today?", she cautiously asked.

Thinking for a moment, he said, "I had a bad head ache"

"According to your mother?", the little girl laughed.

"I -- Well," he was caught, but it was alright. "You're pretty smart."

"I do sit behind you and I noticed you don't exactly have the best scores on your math tests."

They both smiled, and the silent truce was settled between them -- It was a friendship now.

"But I'll only stay quiet if you get me some ice cream!" He laughed at her at that moment, planning to show her his way of swiping some without the vendor knowing, but as she walked toward him she tripped and skidded her arms and legs on the cement of his house steps.

"Lily!", and he saw the blood everywhere.

_I can't take it._

A minute passed and she began to cry , loud with big tears, streaming everywhere, but there was _all that blood_.

_I can't take it._

His eyes were big as she finally looked to him, wanting some help, but he stood there, not even noticing she was speaking until his door opened. His mother took one look towards the small girl and quickly ushered her into the house. The cries were now towards the back of his home, but he didn't hear them - All he knew was there was drying blood right beneath his eyes.

_I can't take it._

---

"Legato?" He looked over to the lightly bandaged girl. "I'm sorry about yesterday, your mother told me about -"

"It's alright."

Lily shifted her feet, fidgeting slightly, only enough for him to see. "Are we still friends?"

He gave no reply, and she looked dejected. As she turned to her seat, he gave out, softly, "Yes, I'm sorry -- I just have a hard time with … blood." It was painful to say it.

She smiled, understanding, "Give it time."

Yes, that could do.

_Give it time._

---

He awoke in the middle of the night to hear his mother crying.

Slowly, he lifted himself from bed and padded from his bedroom door to the one across the hall.

"Mother?", Legato asked, peeking his head slightly inside. "Are you hurt? How come you're crying?"

Shocked to hear his voice, she quickly got up from her chair at the window and beganleading him back to his own bedroom, occasionally muttering this and that about how late it was. He said nothing as she pulled the covers over him and wished him good night. He said nothing in fear of his childish tongue. He said nothing because he knew it was because of his father. He said nothing because he knew that man was dead.

He said nothing because he thought of blood.

And at that moment, he wished life had been different -- that there still was that father in his life, that his mother did not weep when she thought he could not hear. He regretted not helping Lily stand up as she cried, not taking her into his house himself. But he knew it would change. Yes, things would get better - After all, he and his mother were only left with a year to mourn. And he could be nicer to Lily and all the rest of his friends from school, not be so afraid of himself. Yes, things could change and get better.

_Give it time._

---

The next night, he heard his mother again, walking down the hallway. Quietly, opening his door, he found her leaving the house. And when he looked from the front steps, he saw her leaving his life. He knew she did not want him to follow, but this angered him.

_She can't control me._

So he followed to the edge of town, but she was gone.

He cried until morning, when he felt nothing but a strange tap on his shoulder.

---

From that morning forth, he slept in the care of that strange tap, followed it's orders, forced down his meals, and muffled his screams for that tap. It was always there. He lived for it because he could not die until it ceased to touch him.

In daylight, he fought down everything for him, swallowed blood because he was told to, forgot about his life, the people in it, the people who could have been in it. In daylight, time was given for things to get worse.

But at night, he was himself. At night, he thought of the beautiful green eyes as they remembered him, the horror in them when she realized he was not the same, the light gone when they were dead. He thought of the woman walking out the door, and what could have happened if she had stayed, who he might have been. At night, time was given to remember that things could have been better.

And this night, he smiled which made it different from any other moon. The hand that had tapped him now pushed him away. Things would get better.

Tomorrow he would beg for his freedom.

Tomorrow he would be free.

Tomorrow he would have no master.

Tomorrow he would forget.

Tomorrow would be wonderful.

And as the bullet hit him between the eye, he would be sad that only in death could he be released. Things would not get better.

And in that sadness he remembered.

_There once was a boy named Legato._


End file.
